


Vanilla Delight

by januarywren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Breeding Kink, Childhood Friends, Come Marking, Cowgirl Position, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Denial of Feelings, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Bonding, Gaslighting, Grooming, Hand Feeding, Hermione Granger-centric, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Manipulative Relationship, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Masturbation, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Missionary Position, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obsession, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Tom Riddle, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poisoned Kiss Under the Mistletoe Tomione Secret Santa 2020, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Tom Riddle, Possessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), Power Imbalance, Predator/Prey, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Knotting, Romance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Tengu, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Tomione 2020 fic gift exchange, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Hermione Granger, Young Tom Riddle, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/januarywren/pseuds/januarywren
Summary: Outside the moon shone, surrounded by adoring stars that hung high in the sky.The moonlight would never reach inside their bedroom, with the curtains drawn tight, and his body covering hers. “You can take it, sweetheart,” Tom murmured, his hand cradling her cheek, “I know that you can."He kissed her roughly, his tongue slipping between her parted lips to tangle with her own. She tasted like sweet strawberries, cream, and sunlight, a taste that he couldn’t get enough of.She was always his opposite, her hands as clean as his were stained red...Dark Fantasy, Forced Marriage AU | For the Tomione 2020 Fic Gift Exchange! 🔥💖
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Comments: 28
Kudos: 289
Collections: Poisoned Kiss Under the Mistletoe Tomione Secret Santa 2020





	Vanilla Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ciule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciule/gifts).



> Dedicated to one of the most wonderful authors on ao3...Ciule! Your work made me fall in love with Severus/Hermione and I can't help but feel in awe every time I read one of your fics. I can't recommend your work enough to others, your talent is incredible! 🌸💗
> 
> I was thrilled to make you something for the Tomione 2020 Fic Gift Exchange - from your list of prompts, I selected 'smut, 'morally ambiguous,' and 'darkfic'! I truly hope you enjoy this - there's non-con and feelings and less angst than you would expect, despite the themes/tags involved. 
> 
> Thank you to Elywyngirlie for arranging the Tomione 2020 Fic Gift Exchange! I was so excited to create stories for two of my favorite authors, and greatly enjoyed my experience. And thank you to anyone who reads my fics and leaves kudos, a comment, bookmarks, etc. Your support means the world to me, and I can't thank you enough! 🌼🤍
> 
> Please note that while Hermione is technically above the age of consent (16 in my state!) this story is poss. underage because of the grooming elements, as well as the age difference between her (17) and Tom (20).

Outside the moon shone, surrounded by adoring stars that hung high in the sky. 

The moonlight would never reach inside their bedroom, with the curtains drawn tight, and his body covering hers. “You can take it, sweetheart,” Tom murmured, his hand cradling her cheek, “I know that you can."

He kissed her roughly, his tongue slipping between her parted lips to tangle with her own. She tasted like sweet strawberries, cream, and sunlight, a taste that he couldn’t get enough of.

She was always his opposite, her hands as clean as his were stained red.

He never regretted his thoughts nor his actions, as he knew they were right. There was only the future to shape while leaving the past behind. It was a lesson that his bloodline had never learned nor his sweet wife. He knew that he scared her as much as he excited her, his desire set alight.

He wanted to ruin her from the inside until she could bear no other touch but his.

It was the same as any of his kind would their desires untethered by the morals that humans clung to. He dreamed of taking her at will, her delighted cries and whimpers the sweetest sounds to him. He wanted to paint her in his warm and sticky release, drawing streaks of it across her skin, until everyone knew that she was his.

Only the world hesitated outside their door, knowing their rooms were their sacred place. He’d created a nest for her, one of shimmering silks and glistening gold fabrics that caressed her bare skin. There were endless tomes for her to read, encased as she was in a world of their own.

A world that revolved around him taking care of her.

“Hermione,” he crooned, pressing his lips to the worry between her brows, “you know that I believe in you, my love.”

There were times when he peeled fruit for her by hand, his eyes darkening as juice dripped down her chin, and he kissed her lips until he too, could taste the sweet pulp. She wasn't helpless, no, but when she had ridden his cock and taken his knot so well, he often wanted to reward her. It helped too, that he fed her bits of honeycomb and candied nuts, and anything else that she asked for if she were going to carry his young –

Something that he hadn’t discussed with her yet.

The Tengu were notorious for their difficulties with fertility issues, with many couples suffering from miscarriages and stillbirths. Only children were common, as were childless couples that later turned to adopting a mortal child, regardless of their lower status in the immortal world.

It would be with different with his love, Tom knew, as her heart beat in tandem with his. She had to be free from worry, free from stress, and Tom carried everything that he thought she wasn’t ready for yet. As if knowing his thoughts, Hermione keened, her hands weakly pushing against his chest. His spend dripped down her thighs, mingled with her own.

“N-No,” she whimpered, “I can’t take it anymore, Tom – “

Tom chuckled as he let her go –

She was as weak as a kitten, slowly crumpling to the wooden floor.

He used her as he would another of his kind, fucking her for hours during the night. Her body struggled to accommodate him as he knotted her, his come filling her to the brim, and his talons leaving marks down her spine. She was so soft and weak in comparison to him; she was everything that he had never been allowed to be.

His touch left bruises in the shape of fingerprints across her skin, and hickeys covered her throat, the curve of her breasts, and anywhere else he decided to leave them. She never could hide the marks that he left, though she’d tried once, by wearing his robe.

The sight had made him take her in the gardens, where the plants only bloomed at night. She was a vision then, as he bent her against a tree and her fingernails left deep marks in the bark. He’d only realized later that it was what she’d wanted all along: she never asked him to fuck her, instead, inviting him with her defiance. He wanted her against him, beneath him, on her hands and her knees, and in countless, different ways that stroked his desires further.

Nor did she protest, as she rode him until they were gasping in turn, finding their release together. She left her mark on him as he did her, every time she brushed kisses across his pale skin, and cradled his face in her hands.

She was everything to him then.

She always was.

She treated him as gently as one would a child while marking him all the same. She was in his heart and his lungs, and there was nothing, _nothing_ , that he could do to get her out.

She had no right to look up at him with wide, beautiful eyes with an innocence that cut him to the core.

“ _You’re better than this_ ,” she’d told him once when she thought he was asleep. He never slept before her, as he lay with his back toward the door, and curled his arms around her. “ _You’re better than me, you’re better than all of us. You can be free, Tom_.”

His inheritance was something she couldn't understand. The village would become his, its noble families and Council following him, once he reached his majority. He would have two selves then: his past, Tom, and his future self, Voldemort. It was the latter that he would become, his past self hidden deep inside him, where none could find. 

_Voldemort_.

She never called him by his name, his true name, and he never punished her for it.

His stomach churned at the thought of hurting her, as much as he craved the honey-like taste of her tears. He’d taken himself in hand more than once at the thought of chasing her tears with his tongue, before taking her against the wall. He wanted her to shatter in his arms, every whimper and cry heard by the servants before he filled her with his come.

Unlike Abraxas, whose tongue he’d torn free, before offering his cherished first-born to the ravens that circled their village. They were wild birds, ones that bowed to him alone.

He’d always coveted shiny things, marvelous things –

Cherished things.

“Do you need some help, sweetheart?” Tom asked, his lips curling upward.

His childhood friend had always claimed she saw the best of them, yet she had never seen the worst of him. She hadn’t understood what he was, not when she’d played with other children, who’d fallen sick or wandered too far into the woods soon afterward. Even then, few would comment upon his behavior, as he was the heir.

The Gaunt line had long ruled the village, one that was straddled between the mortal and immortal world. Few had expected for the young heir to take to the human girl as he did, one that was taken from the mortal world as a babe. His mother had always wanted a girl, one that she could dress and amuse herself, as she would with any pet.

Only Tom had claimed her first, his hand entwining around hers.

There was something between them that none could break, as they learned together and spent their afternoons in play, before slipping into one another’s rooms at night. Only Tom could chase his friend’s nightmares away, his dark wings unfurling to hide her from the moonlight, and she snuggled against his clothed chest.

Hermione never confessed the nightmares she had, ones filled with birds that flocked overhead, and a voice calling her home. She ignored the cries of her parents as she followed the voice through the dense woods and left everything behind.

It was a dream she couldn’t shake, a nightmare that she couldn’t move past, as it repeated itself every night.

Nor did she wish to remember the voice, as gentle and soothing as it was, for it sounded all too familiar during the day. She had enough reasons to never look back, instead only moving forward. Only, she couldn’t believe a lie without pause, as her mind searched for answers and explanations for everything around her.

“ _Are there others like me?_ " she'd asked her friend once while resting her cheek against his shoulder. It was easier to ask him things without meeting his piercing gaze sometimes, though she would never admit it. “ _Here in the village? Or…outside of it?_ ”

He'd rolled onto his side, moving to face her.

“ _No one is like us, Hermione._ ”

Later, he would often help her dress, his nimble fingers buttoning her thick jumpers. She often wore several layers, unsuited to the harsh winds, and brittle cold that haunted the village. It was an unforgiving world the Tengus lived in, one that mortals rarely survived in.

“ _She’ll stay_ ,” Tom had often said when they were mere children, and he’d kept his promise still. He never allowed Hermione to wander far, holding her hand in his, and tempting her with tidbits of knowledge when she chafed at the rules.

His rules, ones that Tom had created for _her,_ and her safety.

It was a familiarity that his grandfather was amused by, and his uncle seethed at in turn, while his mother – his mother did nothing to discourage them, as she whispered Hermione could become his bride. It was common for their kind to mate on the eve of their adulthood, oftentimes with brides that had just physically matured.

“ _Our kind has always coveted what we cannot have_ ,” Merope murmured, her nails sinking into his shoulder. Melancholy clung to her like black tar, dripping down to their feet. “ _But you, my love, may have the world_ , _with Hermione by your side_.”

Even then he knew her loyalty would come at a price.

He’d felt nothing when he slit his grandfather’s throat, and his hands were stained with his uncle’s blood. He’d felt nothing for them, nor for his mother, the same as his familiar, Nagini, devoured her young.

“Little Hermione,” he teased, the same as he’d often done when they were young.

Her hands balled into fists, as she met his mocking gaze. “I’m not a child anymore, Tom!” Hermione cried, unable to hide the shudder that went through her. Their spend was pooling beneath her on the floor, making her cheeks tinge red. Her innocence pleased him as much as it made him harden; his erection pressing against his stomach. “You…you can’t make c-choices for me.”

He cocked his head, regarding her as he never would another.

She made him ache with unshed laughter, the same as she made him want to show her the very worst of himself. It had always been this way, as he felt torn between treating her as gently as he could or breaking her very will.

An unfortunate part of marriage, he supposed.

“Can’t I?”

He couldn’t help but lower himself to her level, his wings unfurling from him. Onyx colored feathers fluttered around them, a few floating down to rest on his lover’s dark curls. She huffed in response, crawling back as he moved toward her. “I’m your mate, Hermione, or have you forgotten that fact?”

He remembered the night when they mated still –

He’d always remember it, the night vivid in his mind. Hermione had just turned seventeen to his twenty, and his mother had thrown a grand celebration. It was one of the few things that Merope excelled at, her homemaking skills one her father had insisted upon.

With throngs of villagers and dignitaries arriving, they’d ingratiated themselves amidst the crowds, before midnight came. Then, they’d slipped away to the gardens where Tom promised they would be able to see the wisteria that only bloomed during a blood moon.

She was too excited to notice the off-color of the wine that he gave her, one that was tinged with his mother’s blend of herbs. Merope often drank her concoction to lift her melancholy moods and allowed her to sleep at night – only Tom had requested that she leave lavender and lemongrass from it, for he wanted his love awake. 

“ _I…I want to leave, Tom_ ," Hermione confessed after her cheeks blushed pink and her gaze became hazy. She couldn't stand to see him with another, she could hardly imagine it. Jealousy would eat her up on the inside, seeing him with someone he...he loved. " _I want to see the mortal world – my world – and find where I came from_ – “

“ _You plan to leave me so soon_?”

She felt right in his warms, as his arm slipped around her waist. She was small compared to him, her head just reaching his shoulder. When she chastely kissed his cheeks, he had to tilt his head down toward her, or else she would stand on the very tips of her toes. The few times he’d taken her flying, she’d clung to him as she never had before.

He wished she would never let go.

“ _I…I don’t want to leave you_ ,” she’d said, her voice small. “ _Not for long_. _You’re my best friend, and I_ – “

The three, little words clung to the tip of her tongue.

“ _I want to stay with you, as much as I want to find where I belong_.” 

Fortunate then, that Tom decided for her.

He'd kissed her then, an open-mouthed, and heated kiss that was anything but chaste. She'd whimpered in desire, her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. She hadn't pushed him away, she never had.

She’d only entangled herself in him, as he held her closer, closer, closer, and they tumbled into the room he’d ordered to have prepared for them. He tasted salvia on his lover’s lips, and felt the room spin –

It was only her; it was only him.

Their bodies soon became slick with sweat as they tangled together, silk sheets twisting around them. He poured warm oil into his hands, before slathering it inside her.

“So you can take all of me,” he whispered, chuckling as her cheeks flushed red.

He didn’t want to hurt her, not then.

Her cries were his paradise, her slick channel his hell, as he thrust inside her. It was unlike anything he’d felt before, her cunt fluttering around his throbbing cock, as if inviting him further inside her. He wanted her to forget the world around them –

He wanted her to only focus on him – to see him – as he only saw her.

He urged her on to her hands and her knees, as he took like the creatures they were. He wanted to feel every inch of her soft skin, his arms wrapping around her waist, as he pulled her closer against him. His hips snapped against hers as he drove deep inside her, his knot beginning to swell.

“H-Harder, Tom,” Hermione cried, tossing her head back with delight. She felt nothing but his hard cock inside her, filling her in ways she’d never felt before. It felt as right as it was wrong, for she’d never dreamed of laying with Tom before.

And she knew it was Tom, with every touch and every word, for there had never been anyone else for her, except him. He was the one that lingered in her dreams, the same as he filled her days with his presence. As they’d aged he hadn’t let them grow apart, keeping her as close as he wanted, even when the Council objected.

She was mortal, her heart and her soul far different than his.

And she’d tried to stay away, she’d tried to listen to the Council when they warned her that she was keeping Tom from his responsibilities – she would never be enough, regardless of how much she excelled at their childhood lessons, and made the village her home. She healed the sick with herbs, spending hours concocting potions for them, and the creatures that haunted the surrounding forests. She wanted to see the village thrive, and everyone in it, even the Council whom she’d helped before –

Yet it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t enough, no, she would never be enough in the eyes of the Council. She was mortal, every skip of her heart, and rush of blood that ran through her a testament to the fact she was lesser than the Tengu. She would break if one of their kind lay with her, her body unable to take their knot, or bear their children…

Only they were wrong, Hermione thought, so very wrong, for there was nothing but adoration behind every touch from Tom. She bucked his hips back against his, as a whine escaped her lips.

“ _I-I’m going to –“_

Hermione still remembered how her heart had shattered at that, and the hours she’d spent crying at the idea of her friend bedding another.

Mating another –

It was too much, and not enough, as his knot swelled inside her. 

Every thought and every feeling they had, they painted across one another’s skin, with their fingers and their mouths, with lingering kisses, and greedy touches.

Neither heard the guests depart nor did they see the moon slip away, the sun rising in its place.

They had everything and nothing, and Hermione screamed in pure ecstasy when Tom made her his own. She was his to love and his to hold, the mark on her neck branding her as his. And when she couldn’t beak the skin of his mating gland, he broke it for her; his talons raking across the mark. He would always choose her, he promised while he held her beneath him, his knot tying them together. He would never forsake her.

Only, she hadn’t said the same, in turn.

“You never asked me,” Hermione murmured, drawing her knees up toward her chest, before wrapping her arms around them. “You drugged me into – into – “

“Fucking.”

He paused, a breath away from her, his gaze never leaving hers, "We fucked throughout the night, as much as we do now," Tom said, his tone gentle, “and you like it, don’t you, Hermione?”

They knew she couldn’t lie. Wouldn’t.

Not to him.

“There was never anyone else for me.”

For you – the unsaid words stretched between them, words they knew were true.

Hermione looked askance, her blush creeping down her neck. She held herself tight but ached on the inside, more than she ever wanted to acknowledge. She had never thought of anyone but Tom in a carnal way, regardless of how he’d lied to her.

Tricked her.

_Forced_ her, without ever considering her –

At that Hermione hesitated, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Had he?

For she couldn’t deny how right she felt in his hold, even after she’d woken to his brand on her neck, and his come spread across her chest. Her dreams were entwined with his, as much as she dreamed of visiting the mortal world…

Watching her hesitate, Tom hid his crooked smile. He wanted to cradle her nude form against his as if he could whisk her away from the world. Only he knew that it was his world she wanted to leave –

And not even he could fulfill an impossible dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Connect with me: https://januarywren.carrd.co/ 🌹
> 
> https://januarywren.tumblr.com/ 🌹
> 
> and ask for me my discord! 🌹
> 
> Beta'd by Simon and MetalVenomLudens! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You were an amazing help and I can't thank you enough. 🦝🖤


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